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Simple Summer
Recipes
from Home
A Tasty Accompaniment
to the novel
The Sweetness of Forgetting
by Kristin Harmel
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Note from the author
Introduction from Rose to Hope
ROSE’S RECIPES
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
Lavender Iced Tea
Gruyere Puffs
Mixed Nuts with Herbes de Provence
Kettle-Cooked Chips with Blue Cheese, Pecans and Honey
French Dijon Vinaigrette
French Cape Cod Salad
Summer Spaghetti Salad
Summer Lentil Salad
Provencal Tomato Soup
Slow-cooker Potato Leek Soup
French Onion Soup
Smoked Salmon Pizza
Lemon Tarragon Chicken
Slow Cooker Chicken With 40 Cloves of Garlic
Linguine with Cape Cod Clam Sauce
American Cassoulet
Classic Roast Chicken
French Macaroni and Cheese
Shadow Squares
Blue Hour Cookies
FIVE BONUS RECIPES FOR YOUR BOOK CLUB
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Easy Sangria – Red and White
Philadelphia Indulgence Crescent Rolls
Microwave S’mores
Open-Faced Roast Beef Cocktail Sandwiches
Creamy Italian Dip
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
Hello there! Welcome, and thank you so much for checking out The Sweetness
of Forgetting. Please help me spread the word! I would love to hear what you think
of the book one you’ve read it; feel free to email me at [email protected] with
any comments. I read all the emails that come my way, and I try to respond to them as
often as I can.
Now, a few notes about this book. I wanted to create something special to give
to those of you kind enough to check out The Sweetness of Forgetting, because it means
a lot to an author to see the book being talked about before it hits shelves. This is my
small way of saying “thank you” for putting your faith in me and in my story. I love to
cook – which I hope you’ll see reflected in The Sweetness of Forgetting, which includes 9
original recipes from the bakery shared by main character Hope, and her grandmother,
Rose (who goes by Mamie, a French nickname for Grandma). I thought it would also
be nice to create 20 additional recipes, many of which tie together the tastes of Rose’s
homeland – France – with her adopted home – the northeastern United States. The recipes are all intended to be very simple, with the idea that Hope could easily make them
on weekends or after she returns home from a long day of work at the bakery the family
owns. Several even use a slow cooker, which is my absolute favorite kitchen appliance.
I’ve always loved the idea of tossing ingredients together in the morning, leaving for the
day, and returning in the evening to a home-cooked meal. It’s like magic!
After the 20 recipes I’ve created for Hope and Rose (which are all introduced by
notes from Rose to her granddaughter Hope), I’ve also included five recipes specifically
for you, the reader. I think they’re perfect for anyone hosting a book club meeting or a
girls’ get-together. I also think that several of Rose’s recipes would be perfect for entertaining guests, including her lavender iced tea, her smoked salmon pizza, her mixed nuts
with herbes de Provence, her French deviled eggs, and her kettle-cooked chips with blue
cheese, pecans and honey. In fact, if you host a book club meeting for The Sweetness of
Forgetting, make sure to tell your guests that these recipes came from Rose’s very own
(albeit fictional) kitchen!
When I sat down to create these recipes for Hope and Rose, I could imagine
standing in the kitchen with Rose in her younger days, before Alzheimer’s disease began
nibbling away at her memory. I could almost see her writing, in her elegant European
longhand, the careful steps of her favorite easy recipes for her granddaughter, knowing
that Hope would be using them long after Rose was gone.
In The Sweetness of Forgetting, recipes play an interesting role in the story; Hope
discovers, in fact, that she’s been baking her grandmother’s deeply held secrets for years
without knowing it. I think history is in the recipes of many families, in fact, which is why
I think food can be such a powerful literary character.
In a way, many of these recipes tell my own family story too. I tried to create most
of them from scratch, to properly serve the story of Hope and Rose. But a few come from
my own childhood. My mother used to make Summer Spaghetti Salad when we were kids,
and just like Rose remembers Hope doing, I used to put the olives on my fingers as a little
girl. Lemon tarragon chicken is another favorite dish my mom made frequently, and when
I make it today, I always think of what a lovely childhood she gave me. And the shadow
squares are my own grandmother’s recipe; it’s impossible for me to make them without feeling as if I’m surrounded by her. You see, food has the power to carry memories across the
years, and I think that’s why the passing down of family recipes can be so crucial. If you
haven’t already asked your own family members for their favorite recipes, this would be a
good time to do so, so that you, too, can begin tracing your own family’s history through
the taste buds.
I hope you enjoy these recipes – and the little clues and hints to the plot twists of
The Sweetness of Forgetting that are provided in Rose’s notes to Hope with each recipe.
For more, please visit my web site, www.KristinHarmel.com. I post a new recipe on my
blog most Fridays (I call it “Foodie Fridays!”), and you’ll also find other Sweetness of
Forgetting-related content, such as blog posts about Alzheimer’s, the Holocaust and true
love, and even an interactive map of Rose’s Paris.
Thank you, again, for your kindness in checking out The Sweetness of Forgetting.
I hope you’ll enjoy the recipes –and the glimpses into the lives of Hope and Rose – on the
following pages. And I truly hope you’ll enjoy The Sweetness of Forgetting. You’ll find a
preview (the whole text of chapter one!) at the end of this recipe book.
Happy reading!
xo,
ROSE’S COOKBOOK FOR HOPE
My dearest Hope,
Two months ago, you became a mother. From the day I first saw Annie, I knew she
was a miracle, just as you and your mother are miracles to me. I know you’ll grow as a
mother and as a person, and soon, you will understand things about life and love that
you never knew before. That is what being a mother is, and I know you are at the beginning of that journey.
No gift could properly commemorate the birth of our dear Annie, or the miracle of yet
another generation. But decades after I last saw my own mother, her gift to me continues in my ability to cook. I think of her every day at the bakery, and she is with me in
spirit every time I have prepared a meal for you, your mother, or your grandfather over
the years.
That is why I have decided to write down my favorite recipes for you, Hope. You
already learned to bake at my knee, and I know that you will help your own mother
in the bakery from time to time in the future. But I also want you to have some of my
favorite recipes that I have made again and again in my own kitchen over the years. It
is my hope that many years in the future, long after I am gone, you will keep me with
you in spirit each time you prepare one of these easy dishes. That way, you will know I
am smiling down on you always.
The love in you runs deeper than you know. Annie is a very lucky little girl to have you
as a mother, just as I have been lucky to have a lovely granddaughter like you.
Love always,
Mamie
LAVENDER ICED TEA
Hope,
Lavender always reminds me of childhood; it grew in abundance in France, both
in the countryside and in the little window boxes that lent their perfume to my morning
walks in Paris when I was a girl.
Here on Cape Cod, I learned the trick of using the summer sun to make iced tea,
and eventually, I thought to put in a bit of lavender to soothe me and remind me of
home. You can also make this by boiling water, pouring it over the lavender and tea
bags, steeping for 5-10 minutes, and then chilling it after it’s strained, but I prefer to make
this on the back porch, using the heat of the day. I like it in a tall glass, over lots of ice,
with a slice of lemon and a sprig of lavender for garnish. It’s one of my favorite things to
drink while I watch twilight fall over the earth on a warm summer night.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
•
•
•
2 quarts water
5 Earl Grey tea bags
6 sprigs lavender
Lemon and honey (optional)
Directions:
1. Put the first three ingredients into a sun pitcher (a glass pitcher with a tight-fitting
lid to keep bugs and other outside elements out).
2. Place outside in the sunlight for 3-6 hours on a sunny day. You should be able to
see the strength of the tea through the glass; take the pitcher inside when the tea is at
desired strength.
3. Strain through a fine mesh strainer to remove tea bags, lavender springs and sediment.
4. Serve over plentiful ice with lemon and honey to sweeten (optional).
GRUYERE CHEESE PUFFS
Hope,
In France, cheese puffs with gruyere are called “gougères” and are considered a perfect pairing with red wine from Burgundy. I tried selling them in boxes of 24 in the North
Star Bakery in the ‘70s, but they never really caught on; people wanted sweet then, not
savory. These easy cheese puffs have, however, remained one of my favorite recipes to make
at home. When you were little, I sometimes substituted cheddar cheese for the gruyere and
served them with tomato soup.
Gougères are traditionally made with plenty of eggs, and in fact, this characterizes
them. But one morning, I was planning to make these to surprise your mother – who loved
them – and I realized I had run out. So the recipe below is what I made instead, and in
fact, I prefer these. They’re much easier – and they’ll be perfect for Annie to help with.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
•
•
•
•
•
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) softened butter (plus more for greasing cookie sheet)
2/3 cup grated gruyere cheese
2 tsp. crushed, dried rosemary
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. freshly ground pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
Directions:
1.
Mix all ingredients together until thoroughly blended. Sometimes I like to dive in
with floured hands. The dough will still feel very crumbly. If you absolutely can’t get it to
stick together, pop the dough in the microwave for 20 seconds, which will be just enough to
soften the cheese. Mix until it sticks together.
2.
Refrigerate for one hour. The dough will be easier to work with once it chills.
3.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Lightly butter two cookie sheets.
4.
Roll dough into small, bite-sized balls with your hands. You should have about 3
dozen.
5.
Place onto cookie sheets and bake for 6-7 minutes. Cool slightly and serve with wine
(for adults) or tomato soup. Store leftovers in refrigerator and reheat before serving.
MIXED NUTS WITH HERBES DE PROVENCE
Hope,
When I was very young in Paris, my mother loved experimenting with the flavors of our
country. Fennel, basil and thyme were all typical to the Provence region, and I was delighted when spice companies here in the United States began selling a familiar mix called
Herbes de Provence, which blended many of these flavors. It made cooking that much
easier! Using this new spice mixture, I created this very easy cocktail nut recipe; your grandfather loved to have these with a Manhattan after a long day of work.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
•
•
•
•
•
2 cups mixed nuts
1 Tbsp. Herbes de Provence
1 Tbsp. sugar
2 tsp. crushed, dried rosemary
2 tsp. salt (preferably coarse sea salt)
2 Tbsp. butter
Directions:
1.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spread nuts in an even layer on a baking sheet and
roast for 10 minutes, until they just begin to brown and turn fragrant. Watch them so that
they do not burn.
2.
While the nuts are roasting, mix together Herbes de Provence, sugar, rosemary and
salt in a small bowl. Place butter in a medium bowl.
3.
Remove nuts from oven and immediately place them in large bowl with butter. Toss
(I like to use two wooden spoons) until butter is thoroughly melted and nuts are evenly
coated.
4.
Sprinkle herb mixture slowly over buttered nuts, making sure to toss nuts around bowl
so that the herbs are distributed evenly. Stir well to combine.
5.
Spread the nut mixture in an even layer on a baking sheet and roast 5 more minutes.
Remove from oven, cool slightly and serve. Can be served warm or cold.
KETTLE-COOKED CHIPS WITH BLUE CHEESE,
PECANS, AND HONEY
Hope,
When you were a little girl, a little potato chip company opened in Hyannis. You
and your grandfather loved their kettle-cooked chips right away (and so did the rest of
America – they’re now sold in all corners of the country as Cape Cod Potato Chips). Your
mother liked you to eat healthful foods, but Grandpa would sneak outside with you and
give you a handful of chips. He loved you, Hope!
One day, Grandpa said that he thought potato chips were for children, so I decided to challenge that belief and make something simple and easy that would be undoubtedly adult. This recipe could not be easier, and although your grandfather preferred
to have his with a cold beer, your mother liked to have hers with a glass of red wine. I
always thought it would be the perfect thing to serve while entertaining.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
•
•
•
•
1/2 cup halved pecans
Three cups kettle-cooked potato chips
1/2 cup honey
1 cup crumbled blue cheese or gorgonzola cheese
Freshly ground pepper to taste
Directions:
1.
Heat oven to 350 degrees. Spread pecans in a single layer on a cookie sheet and
toast in oven 5-6 minutes, until aromatic but before they begin to burn.
2.
On a large platter, spread chips out as evenly as possible. The larger the platter,
the easier it will be to evenly distribute the honey, pecans and blue cheese.
3.
Drizzle the chips evenly with honey and sprinkle evenly with blue cheese crumbles.
Try to make sure the honey and blue cheese are touching as many chips as possible.
4.
Sprinkle evenly with freshly ground pepper.
5.
Microwave platter for 30 seconds. Blue cheese crumbles should be just beginning
to melt. If they’re not, continue microwaving at 15-second intervals until blue cheese just
begins to soften and ooze.
6.
Sprinkle evenly with toasted pecan halves and serve.
FRENCH DIJON VINAIGRETTE DRESSING
Hope,
Americans are fond of using all sorts of fancy ingredients and contraptions to produce
delicious tastes, and over the years, I have come to appreciate that way of thinking to some
extent. But in France, at least when I was a girl there, the most delicious recipes were often
the simplest. This salad dressing – which is perfect over mesclun greens, or over the French
Cape Cod Salad listed next – relies on fresh, quality ingredients to make it shine. Use a
good olive oil, a French Dijon mustard, and a good sherry vinegar, and your dressing will
be delicious. Remember, sometimes in life, the simplest answer is the right one. Depending on
the situation, your taste buds or your heart will lead you right.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
•
•
•
•
1 small shallot, very finely minced
1 clove garlic, very finely minced
1/2 tsp salt
2 Tbsp. sherry vinegar
2 tsp. Dijon mustard
6-7 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
1.
Combine shallot, garlic, salt and sherry vinegar in a small bowl. Let sit for 10-15 minutes; during this time, the shallot absorbs some of the vinegar and begins to pickle.
2.
Whisk in Dijon mustard until well blended.
3.
Pour olive oil in very slowly, in a thin stream, whisking constantly to combine. Once
all olive oil is added, whisk for another minute, just to make sure all ingredients are incorporated.
4.
Add more salt, and freshly ground pepper, to taste.
5.
Drizzle over mesclun greens, over shredded carrots, or over the French Cape Cod
Salad on the next page.
FRENCH CAPE COD SALAD
Hope,
I left my home behind long ago, but I discovered that I could take some of it with
me, through my taste buds. Of course, I love my new home too; Cape Cod has become the
center of my life, because of course it is where I raised your mother, and where I now have
the chance to proudly watch you become a mother yourself.
That’s why so many of my recipes combine the sensibilities of my homeland with the
ingredients of my adopted home. This recipe features the best of both cultures – the cranberries, apples and turkey of Massachusetts, and the green beans (or “haricots verts”), goat
cheese and dijonnaise of France.
Even if history is never spoken of, it exists in the recipes we pass down. Let this simple
summer salad remind you of where you came from, and of the place we now call home.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
•
•
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8 ounces fresh green beans, cut into bite-size pieces
4 cups mixed salad greens, washed and dried
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1 Granny Smith apple, cored and cut into narrow slivers
2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
1/2 cup chopped turkey
French Dijon Vinaigrette (recipe on proceeding page)
Goat cheese toasts (recipe below)
Directions:
1.
Drop the green beans into a pot of boiling water and cook for 3 minutes. Drain in a
colander immediately and rinse with cold water until cool. Pat dry.
2.
Toss green beans with salad greens, cranberries, slivered apple, chopped eggs,
chopped turkey and vinaigrette.
3.
Divide into four bowls and top with two goat cheese toasts each, fresh from the oven.
SUMMER SPAGHETTI SALAD
Hope,
Once, when you were a girl, you asked me why you’d never seen a pasta salad using
spaghetti instead of macaroni. So you and I sat down one Sunday afternoon and created
this one. The black olives were your idea; you loved to put them on your fingers before we
mixed them in! Your grandfather counted this among his favorite dishes, because you – his
beloved Hope – had a hand in creating it. I haven’t made it in years, but perhaps you’ll
make it one day with Annie. It is very child-friendly.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
•
•
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•
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16 ounces spaghetti
One 16-ounce bottle low-fat Italian salad dressing
One container cherry tomatoes or grape tomatoes, sliced in half
One red onion, diced
Two carrots, peeled and chopped
One can black olives, drained
4 ounces Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
1.
Cook spaghetti according to package directions. Drain and rinse immediately and
thoroughly with cold water, until pasta is cooled.
2.
Mix cooled pasta with remaining ingredients.
3.
Chill at least two hours to combine flavors.
Note: You can, of course, use other pasta shapes too! But spaghetti is the most fun!
SUMMER LENTIL SALAD
Hope,
Lentils, though simple and rather tasteless on their own, are some of my favorite
things to cook with, both because they have been around for so long, and because so many
stories revolve around them. Do you know they appear in the Bible? Or that some believe
their roundness represents the circle of life? I have always believed it is a beautiful thing
when food takes on meaning. This easy lentil salad reminds me a bit of summers in France;
you can add in cold, diced chicken, or chilled shrimp, to make a hearty meal out of it. It is
also good as a side dish, served with lemon tarragon chicken (recipe later in this book).
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
1 1/2 cups cold cooked lentils (You can either cook dried lentils from scratch, or just
use drained and rinsed lentils from a can)
•
1 cup chopped vegetables (I like to chop equal parts carrots, celery and green pepper to equal one cup, but use what you have on hand)
•
1/4 cup sliced green onions
•
Juice of one lemon
•
1/4 cup olive oil
•
1 tsp. dried rosemary
•
1 tsp. dried thyme
•
2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
•
1/2 small shallot, finely chopped
•
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
1.
In a large bowl, combine lentils, vegetables and sliced green onions. Toss to combine.
2.
In a small bowl, whisk together remaining ingredients to make a lemon vinaigrette.
3.
Pour lemon vinaigrette over lentil mixture and stir well to combine. Season with
extra salt and pepper, if desired.
4.
Chill for at least 2 hours to combine flavors. I prefer making this a day ahead so
that flavors have a chance to marry.
PROVENCAL TOMATO SOUP
Hope,
My mother used to make a similar soup when I was a girl, and it’s that much simpler
now that Herbes de Provence and canned tomatoes can be purchased so easily at the store.
I like this soup in winter; it warms my heart and brings back memories of home. It reheats
wonderfully the next day and makes a perfect lunch. Perhaps when Annie is older, you will
like to serve it to her with a grilled goat cheese sandwich.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
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•
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2 Tbsp. butter
Four cloves of garlic, minced
One small onion, chopped
One medium carrot, chopped
4 Tbsp. flour
Two 14.5-ounce cans diced tomatoes, drained
4 cups chicken broth
1 Tbsp. herbes de Provence
1 small can tomato paste
1/4 cup whole milk
4 ounces crumbled goat cheese
Directions:
1.
In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, melt butter. Sautee garlic for 2 minutes, then add onion and carrot. Reduce heat to medium-low. Cover saucepan and cook
for 4-5 minutes, until vegetables are softened and just beginning to brown.
2.
Mix in the flour, stirring constantly until vegetables are evenly coated.
3.
Add tomatoes, chicken broth, herbes de Provence and tomato paste. Bring to a boil,
cover, reduce heat, and simmer for 10-15 minutes, until vegetables are soft.
4.
Add milk, stir to incorporate, and pour half of soup into blender. Puree until smooth
and return to pot. Stir well to incorporate.
5.
Return soup to a boil and simmer 2 minutes. It should be chunky and a little creamy.
Serve in bowls, garnished with a bit of crumbled goat cheese, with crusty French bread for
dipping.
SLOW COOKER POTATO LEEK SOUP
Hope,
Working all day at the bakery, it’s wonderful to come home to a fresh, homecooked meal at the end of the day. I could wish and wish for magic fairies to take over
my kitchen, or I could simply prepare a meal in the morning and throw it into the slow
cooker to simmer all day. That’s exactly what I have done here with this traditional
French soup. It could not be easier!
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
•
•
•
4 medium leeks
4 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
6 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
Salt and pepper to taste
Chives for garnish
Directions:
1.
Begin by cleaning the leeks, which are typically filled with sediment. Cut off and
discard the root end. Cut the leeks into quarters lengthwise. Holding the dark green end
of the leeks, fan the leeks apart, exposing as many of the layers as you can. Swish a few
times in a bowl of cold water, then rinse thoroughly under running water, pushing any
remaining dirt off with your fingers before giving them a final rinse.
2.
Slice off the darkest green ends.. Slice the white and light green parts of the leeks
thinly. You should have about four cups of sliced leeks.
3.
Place sliced leeks, diced potatoes and chicken broth in slow cooker over low heat.
4.
Cook 6-8 hours, until vegetables are tender.
5.
Transfer the soup to a blender in batches and puree until smooth. Return to slow
cooker, and stir in heavy cream.
6.
Stir in salt and pepper, and serve topped with chives.
FRENCH ONION SOUP
Hope,
Of course there are many “proper” French onion soup recipes out there, but with all
the time I spend in the bakery, I always value something that can be done quickly. This
slow cooker version of classic French onion soup is surprisingly delicious, and if you top it
with day-old baguette and gruyere cheese, you will never know you are eating something
so simple. Many French onion soup recipes use lots of butter, but since this one relies on the
slow cooker to soften and meld the flavors, it is virtually fat-free before you add the bread
and cheese (which isn’t essential but is certainly a nice perk!).
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
•
•
•
8 cups beef broth, divided
3 Tbsp. flour
1/2 cup cooking sherry
4 large onions, sliced
8 slices day-old baguette
1 cup grated Gruyere cheese
Directions:
1.
Heat 1 cup beef broth to boiling (either in microwave or on stove) and whisk in flour.
Add the cooking sherry and stir to combine.
2.
Place onions in crock pot. Cover with the flour/sherry/broth mixture and the remaining 7 cups of beef broth. Cook on low for 6-8 hours, or on high for 3-4 hours.
3.
Just before serving, turn oven to broil. Once hot, place the 8 baguette slices on a
baking sheet and sprinkle with the Gruyere cheese. Broil until cheese begins to brown and
bubble.
4.
Ladle soup into bowls. Using tongs (because they are hot!), place one or two cheese
toasts on top of each bowl of soup.
FRENCH DEVILED EGGS
Hope,
When you were young, you once asked me why deviled eggs were named after the
devil (!!), and I had trouble answering you, because in France, I knew them as oeufs mimosa, which had nothing to do with the devil! Your grandfather told us, though, that it is
not uncommon for spicy things in the States to be called “deviled.” This version of deviled
eggs is Americanized, but I tried to use herbs one might find in France. It’s not particularly hot or spicy, so if Annie asks, it is not very “deviled” at all!
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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6 hardboiled eggs, cooled and peeled
1/3 cup mayonnaise
2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh parsley
1 Tbsp. finely chopped fresh chives, plus more for garnish.
1 tsp. crushed, dried rosemary
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
Directions:
•
Slice eggs in half lengthwise and scoop out yolks.
•
In a bowl, mash together yolks with mayonnaise and mustard. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Use a hand mixer for fluffier texture, if you’d like.
•
Pipe or spoon the yolk mixture into the 12 eggs halves. Sprinkle with additional
chives for garnish. Refrigerate at least 2 hours before serving to let flavors blend.
SMOKED SALMON PIZZA WITH DILL AND CREAM CHEESE
Hope,
I have liked smoked salmon for many years; I think it is perfect with cream cheese, a
sliced red onion and a bagel on a special morning, as a little treat. In fact, in the early ‘90s,
I tried to sell this as a breakfast dish in the bakery, but it never really caught on in our community. So I came up with a dish using similar ingredients for the opposite end of the day:
dinner. This unusual pizza can be serves as a main course for 3-4 people, along with a large
side salad, or it can be cut into 10-12 pieces and served as an appetizer with a nice glass of
champagne. I prefer to use storebought crust (or the kind that comes rolled out in a can),
because it is nice to take a break from baking some days. But of course you can make your
own in the bakery too.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
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•
•
•
•
•
•
•
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1 large premade pizza crust, prepared according to package instructions
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 medium red onion
1 large tomatoes
8 ounces softened cream cheese
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh dill, plus more for garnish
Salt and pepper to taste
8 slices thinly cut smoked salmon
1 Tbsp. capers
Directions:
1.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Brush the pre-baked pizza crust with olive oil and bake
in the oven, on a cookie sheet, for 12-15 minutes, until the crust begins to crisp and brown.
2.
Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly.
3.
While crust cools, cut onion in half. Use one half to make 1/3 cup finely minced red
onion. Use the other half to cut very thin slices of the onion. Set the slices aside. Now slice
the tomato, sprinkle slices with salt, and place on paper towels to drain a bit. Set aside.
4.
In a small bowl, using an electric mixer on medium speed, mix the 1/3 cup minced
onion, the softened cream cheese, and 2 Tbsp. of the dill until well blended. Add salt and
pepper to taste.
5.
When pizza crust has cooled enough to touch, spread the cream cheese mixture over
the crust, leaving a 1-inch border around the outside. Cover pizza evenly with smoked salmon, then garnish with thinly sliced red onions, tomato slices, capers and a bit of extra dill.
Serve immediately.
LEMON TARRAGON CHICKEN
Hope,
This is just about the quickest and easiest chicken dish there is. The chicken is cut into
small pieces, so it cooks in just a few minutes, and you’re only using lemon juice, dried tarragon, salt and pepper to impart its appealing, powerful flavor. I can’t remember a time
when I did not have all of those things on hand in the kitchen, so this is a very easy lastminute meal to throw together too, as long as you have chicken breast. I like to serve this
over a bed of rice pilaf, or even instant white rice cooked in chicken broth, with green beans
or broccoli on the side. It is a perfect weeknight meal that Annie should love as she gets
older!
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
1 1/2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into “two bite chunks.” In other words,
you don’t want the chunks to be bite-sized, because they won’t retain enough moisture. But
if you have to cut each chunk in half before eating, they’re the perfect size.
•
1/2 cup lemon juice, divided
•
2 Tbsp. dried tarragon
•
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
•
Nonstick spray
Directions
•
Coat a frying pan over medium heat with nonstick cooking spray.
•
In a medium bowl, toss chicken pieces with 1/4 cup lemon juice, the tarragon, and
liberal amounts of salt and freshly ground pepper
•
When pan is hot, transfer chicken to pan and cook, tossing pieces frequently with a
spatula, so that they’re getting evenly cooked. After 3 to 5 minutes, add the remaining 1/4
cup lemon juice. Continue cooking chicken a few more minutes until it begins to brown just
slightly. I like to cut into two or three pieces to make sure it’s cooked through and no longer pink in the middle.
SLOW COOKER CHICKEN WITH FORTY
CLOVES OF GARLIC
Hope,
Chicken with forty cloves of garlic is a very traditional French recipe that has been
around for ages. When I mention it to Americans, they sometimes react with horror, imagining that the taste of the garlic will be so overpowering that they won’t be able to taste
anything else for days. On the contrary, the garlic turns mellow and nutty as it cooks, and it
imparts a lovely flavor to the chicken pieces. This dish reminds me of home and family, and
I hope that when you cook it, it will inspire the same thoughts in you.
Once the dish is cooked, I like to serve it over rice in shallow bowls (as it takes on
almost a stew-like consistency), with toasted baguette slices on the side. It’s not quite the
traditional recipe, but the taste is very similar. The baguette slices are absolutely perfect for
spreading with the roasted, softened garlic cloves.
Love always, Mamie
Ingredients:
•
1/2 cup dry white wine (I like inexpensive French table wine for this recipe)
•
1 cup chicken broth
•
2 tsp. dried thyme
•
3 to 4 pounds of bone-in chicken pieces (such as thighs, legs, drumsticks, and bone-in
breasts), or one 3- to 4-pound chicken, cut into eight pieces.
•
I Tbsp. butter
•
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
•
40 cloves garlic, peeled (You can often find whole peeled garlic in the supermarket
produce aisle, near the baby carrots; if you can find the garlic already peeled, it cuts down
the preparation time immeasurably).
•
3 Tbsp. cornstarch
•
1/2 cup water
Directions:
1.
Mix the white wine, chicken broth and thyme together in the slow cooker.
2.
Rub the chicken pieces with the butter, then season liberally with salt and pepper.
Place gently into the slow cooker.
3.
Arrange the garlic cloves around the chicken pieces, tucking them into the space between and under the chicken.
bone at this point; I usually shred about half of the chicken into the pot (discarding bones)
and leave the other chicken pieces intact. That way, you have a nice stew with garlic and
some shredded chicken, which you can top with an unshredded piece of chicken still on the
bone.
4.
Set heat to low and cook for 6 to 8 hours.
5.
Remove the chicken and garlic cloves to a large plate. Dissolve cornstarch into 1/2
cup room temperature water and add to liquids remaining in slow cooker. Stir until the liquid begins to thicken into a light gravy-like consistency. Turn heat to high, cook for 3 minutes, then return chicken and garlic to slow cooker. Chicken will be naturally falling off the
6.
Serve by topping bowls of rice with the stew, then add one bone-in chicken piece on
top. Make sure you get at least 5-8 garlic cloves in each bowl. Serve with toasted baguette.
LINGUINE WITH CAPE COD CLAM SAUCE
Hope,
Of course pasta isn’t traditionally French, but for this dish – which pays homage to
the clams of Cape Cod -- I borrowed a bit from my home country’s neighbor to the south!
In fact, your grandfather asked me to try my hand at this recipe years ago, because he had
fond memories of the white clam sauce he’d had when we lived briefly near New York’s
Little Italy in the 1940s. When you were a little girl, you and Grandpa used to go hunting
for clams on the beach, and sometimes, I would use the ones you brought home in your little
plastic pail to make this olive oil-based sauce. I do not enjoy eating shellfish, so I never ate
this with you, but you and Grandpa loved it! When you got a bit older and were no longer
interested in going hunting for clams in the sand, I made this some nights with clam juice
from a bottle and chopped clams from a can. It doesn’t look quite as pretty, but it’s a thousand times easier, and the taste is very similar. That is the recipe you will find below.
Love always,
Mamie
Ingredients:
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
8 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1 1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 cup dry white wine (I prefer pinot grigio)
1/2 cup clam juice (it generally comes in an 8-ounce bottle)
Two 6.5-ounce cans of chopped clams in clam juice
1 lb. linguine
1 Tbsp. butter
1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
Salt and pepper to taste
Grated Parmesan cheese to taste
Directions:
1.
Heat oil in a large (at least 5-quart) saucepan over med-high heat. Sautee onion
about 4-5 minutes, then add garlic, oregano, and crushed red pepper, and sauté, stirring,
for another 2 minutes. Add in wine, clam juice and canned clams (with their juice), stir and
bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cover. Lift lid to stir occasionally.
2.
Meanwhile, cook one 16-ounce box of dried linguine. Cook it one minute less than
directions say. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup of cooking liquid.
3.
Stir butter into clam sauce until melted, then add all of the cooked linguine. Stir
well to combine. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Add a bit of the retained cooking
liquid if pasta seems dry or sticky, and stir to incorporate.
4.
Remove from heat, stir in parsley, salt and pepper. Serve with grated parmesan
cheese.
AMERICAN CASSOULET
Hope,
Cassoulet is a traditional casserole from the south of France; it usually includes white
beans and plenty of meats. In fact, it is considered an art form in many places in France,
and many families have their own recipes. A traditional French recipe would include duck
confit, pork sausage and other meats. But to simplify this meal for the American table (and
to make it something easy to whip up), I typically make my cassoulet using low-fat sausage
and chicken breast, to keep it healthy and easy. I do not care for pork sausage, so I look for
beef or turkey sausage, but you may use any type you like.
This casserole – which also reheats well – is perfect for cold winter nights on the Cape.
Your grandfather often said he wishes he could have tried this in its traditional form in
France, but we were never able to travel there together.
Love always, Mamie
Ingredients:
•
2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into bite-sized pieces.
•
1 pound sausage, sliced into bite-sized pieces
•
3, 14-ounce cans of great white or Northern beans, drained
•
2, 14-ounce cans of diced tomatoes, drained
•
4 Tbsp. tomato paste
•
2 cups chicken broth
•
1 cup dry white wine
•
1 Tbsp. dried thyme
•
1 small bunch parsley, chopped (plus more for garnish)
•
4 garlic cloves, minced
•
One medium onion, chopped
•
Salt and pepper to taste
•
1 1/2 cup panko bread crumbs, divided
Directions:
1.
Reserve 1 cup panko bread crumbs. Mix all remaining ingredients in slow cooker and
set heat to low. Cook 7-8 hours, stirring once or twice during the cooking process.
2.
Just before serving, toast panko bread crumbs for 2-3 minutes in a dry frying pan over
medium heat. Mix half into casserole.
3.
Serve in bowls with slices of crusty bread. Sprinkle remaining toasted panko crumbs
and parsley over bowls for garnish.
CLASSIC ROAST CHICKEN
Hope,
There are many ways to make “classic” roast chicken, which is a longtime French dinner table staple. I like to make mine using a large (5- to 6-pound) bird, so that there is plenty
for dinner and for leftovers the next day. I like using cold chicken in chicken sandwiches and
chicken salad, and sometimes, I reheat it and serve it a second time with mashed potatoes
and vegetables.
Here’s my favorite way to roast a bird. It may take you a few tries to get it right, but
when you do, it will be your masterpiece. I serve it on a bed of roasted vegetables and potatoes, with green beans on the side.
Love always, Mamie
Ingredients:
•
One large (5- to 6-pound) chicken
•
2 Tbsp. butter, divided and softened
•
1/2 lemon
•
1 sprig rosemary
•
6 cloves garlic, halved
•
2 small shallots, quartered
•
3 medium onions, cut into wedges, divided
•
12 medium red potatoes, quartered
•
4 large carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks
•
Coarse sea salt and freshly ground pepper
Directions:
1.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Rinse the chicken inside and out and pat dry.
2.
Prepare the chicken by rubbing half of the softened butter gently under the skin of
the chicken, and the other half gently over the skin of the chicken.
3.
Stuff the inside cavity of the chicken with the 1/2 lemon, the rosemary, the garlic, the
shallots and one of the onions. Tie the legs together with kitchen string.
4.
Spread the red potatoes, carrots and remaining onions in a relatively even layer on
the bottom of the roasting pan. Gentle place the chicken on top of the layer of vegetables,
breast side up. Sprinkle liberally with sea salt and pepper.
5.
Roast the chicken in the oven for 90 minutes, brushing the chicken occasionally with
pan juices. The chicken is ready to come out when you make a small incision between the leg
and thigh, and the juices run clear.
6.
Move the chicken and vegetables to a serving platter and cover with foil for 15 minutes. This allows the flavors to settle.
7.
Slice the chicken and serve with the roasted vegetables.
FRENCH MACARONI AND CHEESE
Hope,
Macaroni and cheese has long been one of my favorite comfort foods, and I know you are
already familiar with my version for children, which uses just child-friendly cheddar. But
in this more complex version, a blend of more “adult” cheeses are used, making it a perfect
grown-up meal, and also a wonderful way to expose children to tastes outside their comfort
zone. I’ve always believed that if children are taught from an early age to enjoy strong
cheeses, they’ll have a palate open to anything. Try this with Annie when she’s 3 or 4, and if
she does not like it, well, you’ll enjoy the leftovers yourself.
Love always, Mamie
Ingredients:
•
8 ounces macaroni
•
4 Tbsp. butter
•
4 Tbsp. flour
•
2 cups milk
•
1 cup gruyere cheese, grated
•
1 cup cheddar cheese, grated
•
1/2 cup blue cheese, crumbled
•
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
•
2 tsp. dried mustard (optional)
•
1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
Directions:
1.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2.
Cook and drain macaroni according to package directions. Set aside.
3.
Microwave milk for one minute, or until hot but not boiling. Meanwhile, in a large
pot, melt the butter on medium-low heat, then add the flour, whisking it in with a wooden
spoon. Continue stirring constantly for 2 minutes. Slowly pour in the warm milk, stirring
constantly, and continue stirring for 2-3 more minutes until thickened and smooth.
4.
Remove pot from heat. Whisk in the gruyere, cheddar and blue cheese, stirring until
smooth. Season liberally with freshly ground pepper, and add dried mustard, if using. Finally, mix in cooked macaroni.
5.
Pour entire mixture into a greased casserole dish. Top with panko bread crumbs and
cook, uncovered, in oven for 25 minutes. Remove from oven.
6.
Turn on broiler. Return casserole dish to oven on top rack and broil 2-3 minutes, keeping an eye on it to prevent burning, until panko crumbs are browned and crisp.
SHADOW SQUARES
Dear Hope,
These blondie-like confections, topped with brown sugar meringue, were a favorite of
your mother’s when she was growing up. You liked them as a child too, and I hope that Annie will be the fourth generation of McKenna to fall in love with Shadow Squares.
Love always, Mamie
Ingredients:
•
1 cup (2 sticks) margarine
•
1/2 cup sugar
•
1/2 cup brown sugar
•
2 egg yolks
•
1 Tbsp. water
•
1 tsp. vanilla
•
2 cups sifted flour
•
1 tsp. baking powder
•
1/2 tsp. baking soda
•
6 ounces of chocolate chips, semisweet
•
2 egg whites
•
1 cup light brown sugar
Directions:
1.
Using an electric mixer, cream margarine until soft. Gradually add granulated sugar
and 1/2 cup brown sugar. Cream until very light and fluffy.
2.
Add egg yolks, water and vanilla. Beat well.
3.
Sift together flour, baking powder and baking soda. Add to margarine mixture,
about half at a time, mixing well.
4.
Spread in greased 9x13 pan. Sprinkle chocolate chips over batter.
5.
Make meringue by beating egg whites until they stand in peaks. Gradually beat in
one cup brown sugar. Spread meringue gently over batter with a spatula.
6.
Bake at 375 for 30-35 minutes.
7.
While still warm, cut into 2-inch squares.
BLUE HOUR COOKIES
Dear Hope,
Twilight has long been my favorite time of day. In France, we call it l’heure bleue,
or “the blue hour,” because of the lovely color of velvet blue the sky becomes as the sun disappears. It is, interestingly, also a term used to refer to Paris at the end of its age of innocence,
which is widely considered to be just before the first World War. However, I have always
believed that Paris’s innocence was truly lost at the dawn of World War II, for my own
early childhood, in the 1930s, was idyllic and innocent indeed. But that proved to be merely
the beautiful twilight to Europe’s darkest night.
For years, I have sat at the window here in Cape Cod, watching the sun seep into the
edge of the earth during the Blue Hour. It is then that the stars appear, and I take great
comfort in seeing them each night. Somewhere, on the other side of the Atlantic, in a land I
left behind long ago, those same stars twinkle overhead, keeping an eye on the earth below.
These cookies are my favorites, because they remind me of my beloved Blue Hour.
The chocolaty cookies mimic the night sky, and the white nonpareil sprinkles are the stars.
Enjoy these, with my love.
Love always, Mamie
Ingredients:
•
1 cup brown sugar
•
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
•
1 egg
•
1 1/2 cups flour
•
1/2 cup cocoa powder
•
1/2 tsp baking powder
•
1/2 tsp. baking soda
•
Dash of salt
•
4 drops blue food coloring (optional – to make the cookies look more like the twilight
sky)
•
One jar of white nonpareil sprinkles, for decoration.
Directions:
1.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2.
In a medium bowl, cream together sugar and butter with an electric mixer. Add egg
and beat well to incorporate.
3.
In a separate bowl, sift together flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda
and salt. With electric mixer on low speed, gradually beat the flour mixture into the butter
mixture until well blended. Add blue food coloring (if using) and beat until well incorporated.
4.
Drop by the heaping teaspoon onto greased cookie sheet. Sprinkle each cookie liberally with white nonpareil sprinkles, pushing down gently to make sure sprinkles stick to dough.
5.
Bake for 10-12 minutes, then remove from oven. Sprinkle liberally again with more
white nonpareil sprinkles. Cool 10 minutes on baking sheet, then gently move cookies to cooling rack.
6.
Serve with a nice glass of cold milk, or a cup of coffee.
AND A BONUS….
FIVE PERFECT RECIPES FOR YOUR BOOK CLUB
GET TOGETHER!
Dear Readers,
The following recipes are all from my own kitchen; I’ve made them
many times for friends. I love to host an annual wine-and-cheese party,
where everyone brings their favorite under-$12 bottle of wine, and I provide the appetizers and cheeses. The five recipes below always make an
appearance. I think it’s a great way for everyone to learn a bit more
about the wines they do and don’t like – and for the group to socialize in
the process. Try it with your friends, or simply serve a few of these dishes
at your next book club meeting! Enjoy!
xo,
WHITE AND RED SANGRIA
I confess: I love wine. I think it has something to do with the time I spent living in Paris,
where having a glass of wine at a café was as commonplace as brushing one’s teeth in the
morning. So if I’m hosting a get-together, I love to have a few bottles of red and white wine
on hand, to appeal to a few different tastes.
Still, not everyone likes wine (oh, the horror!). But even my friends who won’t touch a
glass of cab or chardonnay seem to love these two sangria recipes, which, of course, use wine
as their base.
I’ve also found that making sangria is a pretty good way to use up a bottle you’ve
recently opened and don’t love. Don’t use bad wine, corked wine or cheap wine (unless you’re
trying to give your guests a hangover), but if, for example, you prefer fuller-bodied reds and
you recently opened a pinot noir that doesn’t quite appeal to you, this is the perfect way to
use it.
If I’m having a bunch of people over – especially on a warm evening – I’ll mix pitchers of both red and white sangria.
Red Sangria:
Ingredients:
•
One 750 mL bottle red wine
•
1/4 cup brandy
•
1/4 cup orange juice
•
One 12-ounce can Sprite, 7-Up, Sierra Mist, or similar soda
•
One sliced lemon
•
One sliced lime
•
One sliced orange
•
Maraschino cherries for garnish.
Directions:
1.
Mix all ingredients except cherries together in a large pitcher and chill for at least
two hours.
2.
Add ice to the pitcher and serve, ensuring that each person gets a few fruit slices. Garnish each glass with a Maraschino cherry.
White Sangria:
Ingredients:
•
One 750 mL bottle white wine (preferably dry instead of sweet)
•
3/4 cup peach schnapps
•
One 12-ounce can Sprite, 7-Up, Sierra Mist or similar soda.
•
One 12- to 16-ounce bag frozen peach slices (usually found with frozen blueberries in
your grocer’s freezer) or 2 cups of fresh or canned peach slices.
Directions:
1.
Mix all ingredients together in a large pitcher and chill for at least two hours.
2.
Add ice to the pitcher and serve, ensuring that each person gets at least two peach
slices.
CHOCOLATE DREAM SQUARES
Kraft is providing treats for my The Sweetness of Forgetting book launch parties this year,
so I thought I’d include one of my favorite recipes using their new Philadelphia Indulgence,
which is a new kind of chocolate that’s a blend of real, luscious chocolate and rich, creamy
PHILADELPHIA Cream Cheese Spread. You can also use it on its own as a chocolaty
dip for pretzels, apple slices, etc.
This is the easiest recipe you can imagine, but it looks like it took you a lot of time and
effort! They remind me a bit of pain au chocolate, which are French croissant-like rolls
wrapped around chocolate. Enjoy!
Ingredients:
•
2, 8-ounce cans of crescent rolls
•
1, 8-ounce tub of Philadelphia Indulgence in the dark chocolate flavor
•
2 Tbsp. sugar
Directions:
1.
Set oven to 350 and spray a 13x9 baking pan with nonstick spray.
2.
Unroll one can of crescent rolls into pan and pinch all the seams together to create
one rectangular pastry sheet.
3.
Soften Indulgence in the microwave by heating for 15 seconds, stirring, and then
heating again for another 15 seconds. Spread softened Indulgence evenly across the layer of
pastry in the pan.
4.
Unroll remaining can of crescent rolls over the Indulgence, gently pressing the seams
together to create one rectangular pastry sheet. Sprinkle evenly with sugar.
5.
Bake for 25-30 minutes. Cool slightly and cut into small squares.
Note: You can also make these with other flavors of Indulgence and create a variety of
treats!
OVEN S’MORES
I love s’mores, but it’s not always possible to get a fire going, especially if you don’t have your
own fire pit out back! Here’s an easy oven version that allows you to make s’mores that look
like they’ve been cooked over the campfire (and as a bonus, your house will smell great afterwards!) Stack up a bunch of them on a platter just before your guests arrive.
Ingredients:
•
12 graham crackers (broken in half to make 24 squares)
•
12 large marshmallows
•
6 Hershey’s milk chocolate bars, split in two.
Directions:
1.
Turn your oven on to broil.
2.
Put half of the graham cracker squares out on a large surface or serving tray.
Top each with half of a Hershey’s bar. Spread remaining graham cracker squares on two
ungreased baking sheets, and top them each with a marshmallow.
3.
Slide baking sheets into the oven and broil, watching constantly. The marshmallows
will begin to brown. As soon as they grow dark brown, just as they’re beginning to burn,
remove from oven right away.
4.
Quickly flip the marshmallow grahams over on top of the chocolate grahams to make
a sandwich. Press lightly to flatten marshmallows. The hot marshmallows will slightly melt
the chocolate.
5.
Allow to cool for a few minutes, and then stack on a platter. Recipe can be doubled
or tripled for a larger crowd. Also great using Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups instead of Hershey’s bars.
OPEN-FACED ROAST BEEF COCKTAIL
SANDWICHES
I made these once for a wine-and-cheese party I was hosting, and after being asked about
a dozen times, “What the heck are these?”, I put up a little sign (made out of a folded index card) that said, “Open-Faced Roast Beef Cocktail Sandwiches.” They were gone in
5 minutes, leaving me wishing I’d made more! I like making them for get-togethers now;
I think they’re handy, because you can pick them up in one hand (as opposed to chips and
salsa, which you’d need a plate for), so you can hold your drink at the same time. Sometimes,
I make them for at-home movie night with my boyfriend too; we enjoy them with a small
cheese board and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.
Ingredients:
•
24 slices cocktail bread, or 24 pieces melba toast
•
Two 8-ounce bars cream cheese, softened
•
1/4 cup prepared horseradish
•
2 Tbsp. fresh chives, divided
•
3/4 lb. thick-cut roast beef (ask the butcher to cut it 1/8-inch thick)
•
Very thinly sliced radish, for garnish.
Directions:
•
Combine cream cheese, horseradish and 1 Tbsp. chives in a bowl, and beat with an
electric mixer on medium speed for three minutes.
•
Cut roast beef slices into squares that are just slightly smaller than the top of each
piece of bread.
•
Top each piece of bread or toast with cream cheese spread, roast beef and thin radish
slice. Sprinkle with remaining chives and freshly ground pepper.
•
Serve in a single layer on a platter. Goes nicely with red wine.
CREAMY ITALIAN DIP
This one’s easy to whip up and always goes quickly in crowds. I like to bake and serve it in
a little casserole crock. I always include a spoon in the serving dish, too, so that people can
spoon the dip onto their plates if they’d prefer.
Ingredients:
•
One 8-ounce bar cream cheese, softened
•
1/2 cup chopped tomatoes (you can also use canned, drained diced tomatoes)
•
1/3 cup chopped red onion
•
1 Tbsp. Italian seasoning
•
2 tsp. garlic powder
•
2 cloves minced garlic
•
One bunch fresh basil, thinly sliced
•
One bag pita chips (or one box crackers, such as Triscuits or Wheat Thins)
Directions:
1.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2.
Combine all ingredients except basil and pita chips in a bowl, and beat with an electric mixer on medium speed for three minutes.
3.
Transfer into a small, greased baking dish. Bake for 20 minutes, or until cheese mixture is melted.
4.
Remove from oven, top with fresh basil, and serve with pita chips or crackers.
Coming August 7 from Gallery Books
(a division of Simon & Schuster):
THE SWEETNESS OF FORGETTING
From the author of Italian for Beginners, a lush, heartwarming novel about a woman
who travels to Paris to uncover a family secret for her dying grandmother—and discovers
more than she ever imagined…
Hope McKenna-Smith, divorced mother of a surly not-quite-teenage girl, runs her family bakery on Cape Cod, but is starting to wonder what might have been. What if she hadn’t
abandoned her dreams of law school? What if she hadn’t quit her job to raise her daughter?
What if she hadn’t caught her husband cheating on her with a cliched blonde bimbo? When
her aging grandmother, Rose, summons her to hear a long-held secret, Hope finally has the
opportunity to stop thinking “what if?” and start thinking “what now?”
Rose’s memory is ebbing rapidly due to the onset of Alzheimer’s, and she knows she doesn’t
have much time left to tell Hope the truth about a secret she’s kept for seventy years. Giving
Hope nothing but a list of names, Rose sends her on a journey of discovery that takes Hope
to a synagogue and a mosque in Paris, to a history buried in the Holocaust, and to a longlost love with secrets of his own.
The Sweetness of Forgetting is a story of family, love, honesty…and baked goods.
Read on for an excerpt from
THE SWEETNESS
OF
FORGETTING
Get a copy of
THE SWEETNESS OF FORGETTING
from one of these retailers
Order a copy:
Download:
KristinHarmel.com
@GalleryBooks | Facebook.com/GalleryBooks
Chapter One
<
T
he street outside the bakery window is silent and still, and
in the half hour just before sunrise, as dawn’s narrow fingers are just reaching over the horizon, I can almost believe I’m
the only person on earth. It’s September, a week and a half after
Labor Day, which in the little towns up and down Cape Cod
means that the tourists have gone home, the Bostonians have
boarded up their summer houses for the season, and the streets
have taken on the deserted air of a restless dream.
The leaves outside have begun to change, and in a few
weeks, I know they’ll mirror the muted hues of sunset, although
most people don’t think to look here for fall foliage. The leaf
peepers will head to Vermont, to New Hampshire, or to the
Berkshires in the western part of our state, where the oaks
and maples will paint the world in fiery red and burnt orange.
But in the stillness of the off-season on the Cape, the swaying
beach grass will turn golden as the days grow shorter; the birds
migrating south from Canada will come to rest in great flocks;
the marshes will fade into watercolor brushstrokes. And I will
watch, as I always watch, from the window of the North Star
Bakery.
SweetnessOfForgetting_PTR.indd 1
5/15/12 3:27 PM
2
K RI S T IN H ARMEL
I can’t remember a time when this place, my family’s business,
didn’t feel more like home to me than the little yellow cottage by
the bay that I was raised in, the home I’ve now had to move back
into after the finalization of my divorce.
Divorce. The word rings in my ears, over and over, making
me feel like a failure once again as I try to conduct the balancing act of simultaneously opening the oven door with one foot,
juggling two industrial-sized trays of miniature cinnamon pies,
and keeping an eye on the front of the bakery. It occurs to me yet
again as I slide the pies in, pull out a tray of croissants, and push
the door shut with my hip that trying to have it all means only
that your hands are always full. In this case, literally.
I’d wanted so much to stay married, for Annie’s sake. I didn’t
want my daughter growing up in a home where she had to feel
confused about her parents, like I had when I was a kid. I wanted
more for her. But life never works out the way you plan, does it?
The front door chimes just as I’m lifting the flaky, buttery
croissants from the baking sheet. I glance at the timer on the secondary oven; the vanilla cupcakes need to come out in just under
sixty seconds, which will delay me in getting out to the front of
the store.
“Hope?” a deep voice calls out from up front. “You back
there?”
I sigh in relief. A customer I know, at least. Not that I don’t
know almost everyone who remains in town after the tourists
have gone home.
“Be out in a minute, Matt!” I shout.
I pull on my oven mitts, the bright blue ones with cupcakes embroidered on the edges that Annie bought me for my
thirty-fifth birthday last year, and pull the vanilla cakes out of
the oven. I breathe in deeply, the sugary scent taking me back
to my own childhood for a moment. My mamie—French for
“grandma”—founded the North Star Bakery sixty years ago, a
few years after she moved to Cape Cod with my grandfather.
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I grew up here, learning to bake at her knee as she patiently
explained how to make dough, why breads rise, and how to
turn both traditional and unexpected ingredient combinations
into confections that the Boston Globe and the Cape Cod Times
rave about every year.
I put the cupcakes on the cooling rack and slide two trays
of anise and fennel cookies into the oven in their place. Beneath
them, on the bottom rack, I slide in a batch of crescent moons:
almond paste flavored with orange flower water, sprinkled with
cinnamon, enclosed in a pastry shell, and shaped into gently
curved slivers.
I close the oven door and brush the flour off my hands. Taking a deep breath, I set the digital timer and walk out of the
kitchen into the brightly lit front room of the bakery. No matter
how overwhelmed I am, it still makes me smile to come through
the doors; Annie and I painted the bakery last fall, when business
was slow, and she chose princess pink with white piping. Sometimes it feels like we’re living inside a giant cupcake.
Matt Hines is sitting in a chair facing the counter, and when
he sees me, he jumps up and smiles.
“Hey, Hope,” he says.
I smile back. Matt was my high school boyfriend, half a lifetime ago. We broke up before heading off to separate colleges; I
came back several years later with a bachelor’s degree, the useless
half of a law school education, a new husband, and a baby daughter, and Matt and I have been friendly ever since. He’s asked me
out several times since my divorce, but I’ve realized, almost with
surprise, that we’ve outgrown each other. He’s like a favorite old
sweater that no longer fits or flatters. Life changes you, even if
you don’t realize it while it’s happening, and it turns out you can’t
take back the years that have passed by. Matt doesn’t seem to realize that, though.
“Hey, Matt.” I try to sound neutral and friendly. “Can I get
you a cup of coffee? On the house, since you had to wait.” I don’t
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K RI S T IN H ARMEL
wait for an answer; I’m already pouring. I know exactly how
Matt takes it: two sugars and one cream in a to-go cup, so that he
can get to the Bank of the Cape, where he’s a regional vice president, to get his paperwork started before they open for business.
Since he works just two blocks down on Main Street, he stops in
once or twice a week.
Matt nods and takes the coffee from me with a smile.
“What else can I get you?” I ask, gesturing to the glass bakery
case. I’ve been here since four, and although I’m not quite done
with everything, there are already plenty of fresh pastries. I reach
for a miniature pielike confection, which features a phyllo­like
shell filled with a lemony almond paste and brushed with rosewater and honey. “How about an almond rose tart?” I ask, holding it out to him. “I know they’re your favorite.”
He hesitates for only a second before reaching for it. He takes
a bite and closes his eyes. “Hope, you were born to do this,” he
says with his mouth full, and although I know it’s a compliment,
the words hit me hard, because I never intended to do this at all.
It wasn’t the life I wanted for myself, and Matt knows it. But my
grandmother got sick, my mother died, and I no longer had a
choice.
I brush the words away and pretend they don’t bother me as
Matt says, “Hey, listen, I actually came this morning to talk to
you about something. Can you sit with me for a sec?”
His smile looks a little frozen, I realize suddenly. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it earlier.
“Um . . .” I glance back toward the kitchen. The cinnamon
pies need to come out soon, but I have a few minutes before the
timer goes off. There’s no one else here at this early hour. I shrug.
“Yeah, okay, but just for a minute.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee—black, my third of the morning—and slide into the chair across from Matt. I lean on the table
and brace myself for him to ask me on another date. I’m not sure
what to say; focusing on my husband and daughter for all these
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5
years has cost me most of the friendships I once had, and selfishly,
I don’t want to lose Matt too. “What’s up?”
From the way he pauses before answering, I have the sense that
something’s wrong. Maybe it’s because I’ve grown accustomed to
bad news lately. My mother’s cancer. My grandmother’s dementia.
My husband deciding he no longer wanted to be my husband. So
I’m surprised when what Matt says is, “How’s Annie?”
I look at him closely, my heart suddenly racing as I wonder
whether he knows something I don’t. “Why? What happened?”
“I was just wondering,” Matt says quickly. “I’m being nice.
Making conversation.”
“Oh,” I say, relieved that he hasn’t come as the bearer of some
sort of bad news. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that my
daughter had been caught doing something foolish like shoplifting or spray-painting her middle school. She’s been different
since her father and I split up: edgy, nervous, and angry. More
than once, I’ve guiltily searched her room, thinking I’d find cigarettes or drugs, but so far, the only evidence of the change in my
Annie is the massive chip on her shoulder. “Sorry,” I tell Matt. “I
keep waiting for something else to go wrong.”
He averts his eyes. “How about dinner tonight?” he asks. “Me
and you. Annie’ll be at Rob’s again, right?”
I nod. My ex and I share custody equally, an arrangement I’m
not happy about, because I think it makes Annie’s life less stable.
“I don’t know, Matt,” I say. “I just think—” I search for words
that won’t hurt. “I think maybe it’s too soon, you know? The
divorce was so recent, and Annie’s really struggling. I think it’s
better if we just—”
“It’s just dinner, Hope,” Matt interrupts me. “I’m not proposing to you.”
My cheeks are suddenly on fire. “Of course not,” I mumble.
He laughs and reaches for my hands. “Relax, Hope.” When I
hesitate, he smiles slightly and adds, “You have to eat. How ’bout
it?”
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K RI S T IN H ARMEL
“Yeah, okay,” I say, and it’s at that moment that the front door
of the bakery swings open, and Annie comes in, her backpack
slung over her shoulder, her dark sunglasses on, even though
dawn hasn’t yet broken. She stops and stares at us for a moment,
and I know instantly what she’s thinking. I pull my hands away
from Matt, but it’s too late.
“Great,” she says. She rips her sunglasses off and tosses her
long, wavy, dishwater-blonde hair over her shoulder, fixing us
with a glare that makes her deep gray eyes even stormier than
usual. “Were you going to, like, start making out if I didn’t get
here?”
“Annie,” I say, standing up. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Whatever,” she mutters. Her new favorite word.
“Don’t be rude to Matt,” I say.
“Whatever,” she repeats, rolling her eyes for emphasis this
time. “I’ll be in the back. So you can, like, go back to doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
I look after her helplessly as she charges through the double
doors to the kitchen. I hear her throw her backpack onto the
counter, the weight of it rattling the stainless steel bowls I keep
stacked there, and I wince.
“Sorry,” I say, turning back to Matt. He’s staring in the direction Annie disappeared.
“She’s really something,” he says.
I force a laugh. “Kids.”
“Frankly, I don’t know how you put up with it,” he says.
I smile tightly at him. I’m allowed to feel annoyed with my
daughter, but he’s not. “She’s just going through a hard time,” I
say. I stand up and glance toward the kitchen. “The divorce has
been tough on her. And you remember seventh grade. It’s not
exactly the easiest year.”
Matt stands up too. “But the way you let her talk to you . . .”
Something in my stomach tightens. “Good-bye, Matt,” I say
through a jaw clenched so tightly it hurts. Before he can reply, I
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turn away, heading for the kitchen, hoping that he takes the hint
to leave.
“You can’t be rude to customers,” I say to Annie as I come through
the double doors into the kitchen. Her back is to me, and she’s
stirring something in a bowl—batter for red velvet cupcakes, I
think. For a moment I think she’s ignoring me, until I realize she
has earbuds in. That damned iPod.
“Hey!” I say, louder. Still no reply, so I walk up behind her
and pull the earbud out of her left ear. She jumps and whirls
around, eyes blazing, as if I’ve slapped her.
“God, Mom, what’s your problem?” she demands.
I’m taken aback by the anger in her face, and for a moment,
I’m frozen, because I can still see the sweet little girl who used
to crawl onto my lap and listen to Mamie’s fairy tales, the girl
who came to me for comfort after every skinned knee, the girl
who made me Play-Doh jewelry and insisted I wear it to Stop &
Shop. She’s still in there somewhere, but she’s hiding behind this
icy veneer. When did things change? I want to tell her I love her,
and that I wish we didn’t have to argue like this, but instead, I
hear myself coolly say, “Didn’t I tell you not to wear makeup to
school, Annie?”
She narrows her overly mascaraed eyes at me and purses her
too-red lips into a smirk. “Dad said it was fine.”
I mentally curse Rob. He seems to have made it his personal
mission to undermine everything I say.
“Well, I’m telling you it’s not,” I say firmly. “So get in the
bathroom and wipe it off.”
“No,” Annie says. She puts her hands on her hips defiantly.
She glares at me, not yet realizing that she’s streaked red velvet
batter on her jeans. I’m sure that’ll be my fault too when she figures it out.
“This isn’t up for debate, Annie,” I say. “Do it now, or you’re
grounded.”
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K RI S T IN H ARMEL
I hear the coldness in my voice, and it reminds me of my
mother. For a minute, I hate myself, but I stare Annie down,
unblinking.
She looks away first. “Whatever!” She rips her apron off and
throws it on the floor. “I shouldn’t even be working here!” she
yells, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s against child labor laws!”
I roll my eyes. We’ve had this discussion ten thousand times.
She’s not technically working for a paycheck; this is our family
business, and I expect her to help out, just like I helped my mom
when I was a kid, just like my mom helped my grandmother.
“I’m not explaining this to you again, Annie,” I say tightly.
“Would you rather mow the lawn and do all the chores around
the house?”
She stalks out, presumably heading for the bathroom on the
other side of the double doors. “I hate you!” she yells back at me
as she disappears.
The words hit me like a dagger to the heart, even though
I remember screaming them at my own mother when I was
Annie’s age.
“Yeah,” I mutter, picking up the bowl of batter and the
wooden spoon she left on the counter. “What else is new?”
By seven thirty, when Annie is about to leave to walk the four
blocks to Sea Breeze Junior High, all of the pastries are out
and the shop is full of regulars. In the oven is a fresh batch of
our Rose’s Strudel, filled with apples, almonds, raisins, candied
orange peel, and cinnamon, and the scent is wafting comfortingly through the bakery. Kay Sullivan and Barbara Koontz, the
two eightysomething widows who live across the street, are gazing out the window, deep in conversation, while they sip coffee at
the table closest to the door. Gavin Keyes, whom I’d hired to help
me make my mother’s house livable again over the summer, is at
the table beside them, sipping coffee, eating an éclair and reading
a copy of the Cape Cod Times. Derek Walls, a widowed dad who
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lives on the beach, is here with his twin four-year-olds, Jay and
Merri, each of whom is licking the icing off a vanilla cupcake,
even though it’s only breakfast time. And Emma Thomas, the
fiftysomething hospice nurse who’d tended to my mom while she
was dying, is standing at the counter, trying to choose a pastry to
have with her tea.
I’m just about to pack up a to-go blueberry muffin for Emma
when Annie strides past me, her coat on and her backpack slung
over one shoulder. I reach out and grab her arm before she can
get by.
“Let me see your face,” I say.
“No,” she mumbles, looking down.
“Annie!”
“Whatever,” she mutters. She looks up, and I see that she’s
put on a fresh coat of mascara and reapplied the hideous lipstick.
She also appears to have added a layer of fuchsia blush that comes
nowhere near the apples of her cheeks.
“Wipe it off, Annie,” I say. “Now. And leave the makeup
here.”
“You can’t take it from me,” she retorts. “I bought it with my
own money.”
I glance around and realize that the shop has fallen silent,
except for Jay and Merri chattering in the corner. Gavin’s looking at me with concern, and the old ladies near the door are just
staring. I feel suddenly embarrassed. I know I already seem like
the town failure for letting my marriage to Rob end; everyone
thinks he’s perfect and I was lucky to marry him in the first place.
Now I appear to be a failure at parenting too.
“Annie,” I say through gritted teeth. “Do it now. And this
time, you are grounded, for disobeying me.”
“I’m staying with Dad for the next few days,” she shoots back,
smirking at me. “You can’t ground me. Remember? You don’t
live there anymore.”
I swallow hard. I won’t let her know that her words have
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hurt me. “Fantastic,” I say brightly. “You’re grounded from the
moment you step into my house.”
She curses under her breath, glances around, and seems to
realize that everyone’s looking at her. “Whatever,” she mutters as
she heads for the bathroom.
I exhale and turn back to Emma. “I’m sorry,” I say. I realize
my hands are shaking as I reach for her pastry again.
“Honey, I raised three girls,” she says. “Don’t worry. It gets
better.”
She pays and leaves, then I watch as Mrs. Koontz and Mrs.
Sullivan, who have been coming here since the bakery opened
sixty years ago, get up and hobble out the door, each of them
using a cane. Derek and the twins are getting ready to go too, so
I come out from behind the counter to pick up their plates. I help
button Merri’s jacket, while Derek zips Jay’s. Merri thanks me
for the cupcake, and I wave as they leave.
Annie emerges from the bathroom a minute later, her face
blissfully makeup free. She slams a mascara tube, a lipstick, and a
pot of blush down on one of the tables and glowers at me. “There.
Happy?” she asks.
“Overjoyed,” I say dryly.
She stands there for a moment, looking like she wants to say
something. I’m steeling myself for some sort of sarcastic insult, so
I’m surprised when all she says is, “Who’s Leona, anyway?”
“Leona?” I search my memory but come up empty. “I don’t
know. Why? Where’d you hear that name?”
“Mamie,” she says. “She keeps, like, calling me that. And it
seems to, like, make her real sad.”
I’m startled. “You’ve been going to see Mamie?” After my
mother died two years ago, we’d had to move my grandmother
into a memory care home; her dementia had rapidly taken a turn
for the worse.
“Yeah,” Annie says. “So?”
“I . . . I just didn’t know you were doing that.”
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“Someone has to,” she spits back.
I’m sure the guilt plays across my face, because Annie looks
triumphant.
“I’m busy with the bakery, Annie,” I say.
“Yeah, well, I find the time,” she says. “Maybe if you were
spending less time with Matt Hines, you could spend more time
with Mamie.”
“Nothing is going on with Matt.” I’m suddenly acutely conscious of Gavin sitting a few feet away, and I can feel my cheeks
turning warm. The last thing I need is the whole town knowing
my business. Or lack of business, as the case may be.
“Whatever,” Annie says, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, at least
Mamie loves me. She tells me all the time.”
She smirks at me, and I know that I’m supposed to say Honey,
I love you too, or Your dad and I love you very much, or something
along those lines. Isn’t that what a good mother would do?
Instead, because I’m a horrible mother, what comes out of my
mouth is “Yeah? Well, it sounds to me like she’s saying ‘I love
you’ to someone named Leona.”
Annie’s jaw drops, and she stares at me for a minute. I want to
reach out, pull her into a hug and say I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.
But before I have a chance, she whirls on her heel and strides out
of the store, but not before I see the tears glistening at the corners
of her eyes. She doesn’t look back.
My heart aches as I stare in the direction she disappeared. I
sink into one of the chairs the twins vacated a few minutes earlier
and put my head in my hands. I’m failing at everything, but most
of all at connecting with the people I love.
I don’t realize Gavin Keyes is standing above me until I feel his
hand on my shoulder. I jerk my head up, startled, and find myself
staring directly at a small hole in the thigh of his faded jeans. For
an instant, I have the strangest urge to offer to mend it, but that’s
ridiculous; I’m no better at using a needle and thread than I am at
being a mother or staying married. I shake my head and pull my
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eyes upward, over his blue plaid flannel shirt to his face, which is
marked by a thick shadow of dark stubble across his strong jaw. His
thick shock of dark hair looks like it hasn’t been combed in days,
but instead of making him look unkempt, it makes him look really
good in a way that makes me uneasy. His dimples, as he smiles gently at me, remind me just how young he is. Twenty-eight, I think,
or maybe twenty-nine. I feel suddenly ancient, although I’m only
seven or eight years older. What would it be like to be that young,
with no real responsibilities, no preteen daughter who hates you,
no failing business to save?
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he says. He pats me on the back and
clears his throat. “She loves you, Hope. You’re a good mom.”
“Yeah, uh, thanks,” I say, avoiding his eye. Sure, we’d seen
each other nearly every day during the months he was working
on my house, and when I returned home from work in the afternoons, I often fixed us lemonade and sat on the porch with him,
doing my best to avoid looking at the tanned swell of his biceps.
But he doesn’t know me. Not really. Certainly not well enough to
judge me as a mother. If he knew me that well, he’d know what
a failure I am.
He pats me awkwardly again. “I mean it,” he says.
Then he too is gone, leaving me all alone in my giant pink
cupcake, which suddenly feels very bitter.
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